


Technical Hitch

by lost_spook



Category: Doctor Who (1963), Sapphire and Steel
Genre: Community: dw_straybunnies, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-27
Updated: 2013-01-27
Packaged: 2017-11-27 04:17:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/657934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lost_spook/pseuds/lost_spook
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Something odd is happening in the lab.  Liz has her suspicions...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Technical Hitch

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Persiflage](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Persiflage/gifts).



> From a prompt left by Persiflage and for dw_straybunnies Prompt of the Month July 2012.

Liz pulled out her notes and smoothed down the pages before turning her attention back to the apparatus on her workbench, ready to continue with her tests. However, she first stopped to examine the contents of the test tubes, and gave a small grimace as she spotted that one of them was empty yet _again_. For the past three mornings, she’d arrived to find one sample – a different one each time – had vanished during the night. It was getting past a joke and fast heading towards sabotage.

“You’re very persistent, you know,” said a voice from behind her.

Liz raised one eyebrow, but didn’t bother to turn around. That, she thought, explained nearly everything, at least. “Well, how else do you think I got where I am?”

“Oh,” Silver said, moving forward and leaning against the workbench to one side of her. “I suppose.”

“And I _was_ beginning to wonder. It was a little too neat – the rubber seals untouched, everything exactly as I left it, as if someone could miraculously extract the alien substance without even opening them.”

“Then I’m surprised you continued.”

“I wondered,” said Liz. “That’s all. I didn’t know, because someone very rudely didn’t take the trouble to drop by and ask me to stop, or bother to explain.”

Silver’s expression shifted guiltily, but then he smiled at her. “I see.”

“Yes,” Liz said. “So, what catastrophe are you trying to avert by swiping my samples? Am I endangering the universe in my pursuit of scientific knowledge, or are you just bored?”

Silver waved a hand. “Not quite a catastrophe. Not yet, or they’d have sent someone else. More of a technical glitch of sorts. You could, if you continue, discover something you aren’t ready for.”

“You know, that sounds suspiciously like the same sort of superstitious nonsense people have always used as an excuse to halt the progress of science.”

“It may _sound_ like it, but it isn’t.”

Liz raised her chin. “I’d still like an explanation, if you don’t mind. Otherwise I might keep trying anyway. It’d make a change for someone to be annoying you, wouldn’t it?”

“An explanation?” said Silver. “But I’ve –” Then he smiled again and raised an eyebrow. “Oh,” he said. “ _Oh_.” 

Liz looked across at him. Of course, it wasn’t sensible, and she certainly shouldn’t have asked, even in a roundabout way. On the other hand, if she was going to have three days work wasted, she deserved something in exchange. 

Silver smiled widely and then kissed her forehead, on the temple, and for one moment she could see again, as he could, the threads and building blocks of the universe. It was too much to take in, as it had been before: an instant of coldness, an impression of something like snow or dust and cobwebs – silver strands everywhere. She blinked, and it was gone.

She’d instinctively hung onto his arm, and now she let go, and tried to hide her reaction, even though she knew even without looking at his pleased expression, that he knew.

“Really,” she said, becoming severe again, “you could simply have left a note.”

Silver only smiled again. “Oh, I don’t think that would have been _nearly_ as much fun, do you?”


End file.
